bells and a hundred thousand candles
arcs and wood as old as we were young
time for a hundred thousand songs
and we were young

rhymes and a martyred magic dancer
sound of smoke and taste of rain to come
wide as a hundred thousand eyes
and we were young
all of our lives
and the spring was a true word

moonlight and melting mountain rivers
birdsong falling down the valley side
speak for a hundred thousand loves
night is soft lie by my side

bells and a hundred thousand candles
arcs and wood as old as we were young
time for a hundred thousand songs
and we were young

dreams and the shining leaves of morning
stars we could not keep become the sky
bright as a hundred thousand eyes
all of our lives
didn't we know
that the spring was a true word

days when they turn are called the seasons
seasons  when they turn are called our lives
dance and the music is the wind
and we are echoing chime

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